


accidents happen, sometimes.

by jellyjamjelly



Series: sheithweek 2k16 [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Day 5, Fluff, I Tried, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, a little hyperventilation, just a lot of fluff, sheithweek, sheithweek 2k16, some action-y stuff, training/playful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyjamjelly/pseuds/jellyjamjelly
Summary: Keith and Shiro train together a lot, but sometimes, unexpected things happen. 
(alternatively, where Shiro and Keith get into an 'accident' while training, and Keith has a revelation.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> fluff and action don't come that easy to me, but i had fun writing this!
> 
> and
> 
> i'm sorry. i'm not sure what Pidge's pronouns are or what's canon. i'm using she/her pronouns because she does come out as 'girl' at some point, and i hope that's okay.

“You ready for level 5?” Keith asks, panting through his grin, watching the gladiator robot disintegrate into orbs of blue light. He moves a gloved hand to his face, trying to wipe some of the sweat off his face with his palm, but more drips onto the training grounds.

“Yeah, of course. Are you?”

Shiro, too, is flushed with exertion, effort colouring his cheeks, white hair slicked with sweat, sticking to his forehead. A smirk plays on his lips that Keith all but wants to kiss away.

“Who do you think I am?” Keith turns away, huffing with mock indignation, and calls out, “start training level 5.”

The next gladiator appears, charging towards them the second its feet are formed, and Shiro dodges a heavy swing from the robot’s sword, twisting skilfully to the side, and then lunging close enough to connect a fist to the metallic torso. The robot staggers backwards slightly, but regains balance as Keith tries to take the opportunity to strike. It parries Keith’s sword, ducks under Shiro’s fist, and with the quick accuracy of a fighting machine, sticks its leg out to trip Keith who falls gracelessly with an irritated noise. Shiro sends the gladiator backwards, away from Keith, with a palm to its chest, and helps Keith to his feet with an amused grin before almost sending him back onto his knees with a lighthearted (read, forceful) pat on the back.

“Woah, careful there, buddy.”

Keith glares at his leader as he catches himself.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Well-” Shiro shields his head from the gladiator’s oncoming attack, “probably not mine.”

Keith watches the two, robot and man, fight for dominance, struggle for the upper hand, sword versus prosthetic, flesh versus metal, Altean versus Galran tech. Shiro has his back facing Keith. Their positions are perfect. This is the chance they were waiting for.

Of course, Shiro already knows this. They have fought together many times. They know how the other moves, know how the other strategizes, how the other thinks, acts, and fights. They know each other like the back of their hands. They are partners. They are teammates. Fighting together should be second nature to them _._

With a final push, Shiro gains the upperhand, tearing the weapon away from the robot’s death grip, and kicks the solid, metal abdomen. The robot loses its balance, and Shiro ducks, rolling to the side as he shouts, “now!”

Keith flies towards the heat of the commotion, towards the enemy, agile frame leaning forward at an angle to push more speed from his legs, battle cry streaming from his lips, and slashes upwards. The sword slides across the gladiator’s torso in a perfect diagonal and the gladiator stops moving, disintegrating again into blue orbs. But Keith, in his haste, doesn’t notice how his foot catches on one of Shiro’s. He tumbles forwards, towards Shiro, landing heavily on his forearms and elbows.

On top of Shiro.

“Oh.”

Keith's arms encase Shiro's head. Their faces are so close, touching almost, so close that Keith can feel Shiro’s warm breath tickle his nose, Shiro’s broad chest pressed against his own ribs, hearts thumping against each other, in the non-existent distance between them, legs all entangled in one another’s.

Oh.

Oh no.

Keith feels all the blood in his body rush to his head and his mouth gapes, too wide, too open, and without words. This situation is beyond words, beyond what either of them can comprehend. His mind is going haywire, short-circuiting, he can’t think, _can't_ breathe. He swears he can feel Shiro’s heartbeat quicken, like his, thumping faster and faster, and so fucking loud, it rings around them, or is that _his_ heart? Keith doesn’t know. He feels like fainting. Or exploding. Or both. He wouldn’t mind dying, right there and then. He knows his face is just as red as Shiro’s, whose face is flushed beyond what Keith ever imagined possible, beyond the red that can be achieved by physical exertion.

(Keith finds the _tiniest_ solace in the fact that Shiro is probably just as flustered as him.)

He needs to move away, but his body won’t move. He _needs_ to get off Shiro, but-

“Um.”

Their heads whirl around so fast that Keith can almost picture the vertebrae snapping under their skin. The force of the surprise flings Keith off Shiro.

Okay, good.

Crisis averted. Sort of.

(Keith can’t stop the red from climbing up and up and up into his hairline, or getting deeper and deeper and deeper, however.)

Pidge stands in the doorway, rubbing the back of her neck nervously, uncomfortable under the intensity of their stares.

“Um,” she starts again. “We have private rooms for that, you know.”

Pidge looks more flustered with each tick.

“No, no, of course.” Shiro hastily stands up, brushing non-existent dust off of his trousers. “Sorry about that.” He takes a step, and another, and then turns back, a small frown just marring his features.

“Uh, Keith?”

Shiro’s voice jolts Keith out of his daze, and the red paladin realises he’s still on the floor, mouth agape, legs numb from being sat on.

Well, fuck. Here’s to screwing up in front of the biggest crush of his life. He hurriedly picks himself off the floor and almost trips over his feet again, silently cursing his stupid, _stupid_ clumsiness. He looks up, and Shiro’s there, just standing there, fingering the hem of jacket restlessly, looking _completely_ abashed.  

There’s confusion, and embarrassment, and apprehension written all over Shiro’s face. And Keith forgets that Pidge just walked in on them. All Keith can think about is how _endearing_ Shiro looks.

Shiro points his thumb towards the door.

“Wanna go back?”

It takes several long moments for Keith to register what Shiro just said. He simply can’t wrap his head around words right now. _Wanna go back? Where?_

“The rooms?” Shiro’s voice supplies helpfully.

Keith looks up, blinking slowly at Shiro. Shiro who is _still_ playing with the hem of shirt. Biting his bottom lip anxiously. Shifting his weight every few ticks from foot to foot. Shiro tries sending Keith a smile, hesitant and not quite there, teeth still pulling at his lip, but.

_Oh god._

Suddenly, Keith’s mind clears like the sky clears after the rain, like space god parting the clouds. He gets the best idea. The _best, fucking idea._ And the most mischievous, face-splitting grin dawns on his face.

“Go back and continue where we left off?” He takes two long strides towards Shiro, grabs the black paladin’s wrist and tugs the man towards the door, ignoring Pidge’s owlish gaze trailing after them. Shiro looks even _more_ confused now. His mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out.

So Keith answers for him.

“Of _course_ , Shiro.”

**Author's Note:**

> i've missed some days in sheithweek, but it's keeping me on my toes. i don't think i've ever written so much in such a short span of time. let me know what you think!
> 
> and you can yell at me about sheith on [tumblr](https://jellyjamjelly.tumblr.com/ask). i also revived my [twitter](https://twitter.com/satokairin)! let's be friends.


End file.
